I'm a poor boy born in a rubble And some say my manners ain't the best And some of my friends, yeah, they've been in real trouble And some say I'm no better than the rest But tell your mama and your papa Sometimes good guys don't wear white Yeah, every day, baby, I work hard And it's true at night I spend the restless time But those rich kids and all that lazy money Can't hold a candle to mine So tell your mama and your papa Sometimes good guys don't wear white Good guys, bad guys, which is which? The white collar worker or the digger in the ditch? Hey, and who's to say who's the better man When I've always done the best I can? A-bad words and dirty minds All those messed-up chicks of the changin' times White pills and easy livin' Can't replace the love I've given So tell your mama and your papa Sometimes good guys don't wear white Ha! I mean to tell ya You better tell your mama and your papa somethin' I'll split off by myself with another chick, yeah Ah, it's just a kick You think those guys in the white collars are better than I am baby? Then flake off! You don't dig this long hair? Get yourself a crewcut, baby! Yeah, I mean what I say